Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Cameroon and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Names to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dennis Brown,
The Golliwogs,
Jeff Mills,
Interpol,
John Coltrane,
Soft Machine,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lou Reed,
Max Romeo,
Trumans Water,
Technova,
Pierre Henry,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mantronix,
JFA,
Charles Mingus,
Aloha Tigers,
Sugar Minott,
The Pop Group,
Mad Mike,
Minny Pops,
Sällskapet,
Mandrill,
Audionom,
Public Enemy,
Althea and Donna,
K-Klass,
Monks,
Goldenarms,
Aaron Thompson,
June of 44,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lower 48,
Robert Görl,
Procol Harum,
David Axelrod,
Sex Pistols,
Animal Collective,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Hashim,
Stetsasonic,
Talk Talk,
Brass Construction,
Swans,
Intrusion,
X-102,
John Lydon,
Zapp,
Iggy Pop,
Faraquet,
The Moody Blues,
Porter Ricks,
Byron Stingily,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Bar-Kays,
David McCallum,
Franke,
Qualms,
The Velvet Underground,
Oblivians,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.